


Flipped

by Gort



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode: s06e10 Wrecked, F/M, House Flipping, Star Wars References, Thigh Bronzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: S6. Buffy wakes up after her first night of debauchery with Spike and realizes she has a problem. And it isn’t the naked vampire beside her or the fruitless search for her clothes. An entire television crew has invaded the house she and Spike semi-destroyed and she’s just been shanghaied into helping fix it up. Morning afters are so not her forte. Set just after Smashed.Beta'd by the lovely SunalsoDisclaimer: Not mine (except for Megan and Gary)





	1. Screwed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the EF Artistic Anniversary Challenge 2016
> 
> Based on a banner made by the talented Puddinhead, who also had the following stipulations:
> 
> AU - This one should deal with those house flipping shows.
> 
> Must have:  
> 1\. They should remain naked for most of the story.*  
> 2\. Creative use of carpenter's glue and/or a pressure washer.  
> 3\. Spike should steal something from the crew.
> 
> (a/n *They do end up getting dressed, but in as little clothing as possible, I promise.)

Buffy opened her eyes.

Something wasn’t quite right, she decided, squinting at where the ceiling should be. Her bed didn’t feel nearly as comfortable as usual, and she couldn’t hear Dawn banging cupboards or slamming doors or otherwise expressing her teenage angst. Buffy was absolutely positive she hadn’t been nearly as annoying when she was fifteen.

A beam of early morning sunlight managed to penetrate the gloom, illuminating a broken floorboard over her head and setting off a cascade of images reminding her of exactly how it’d gotten that way. A tiny whimper escaped her throat as she remembered where she was and who she must have…spent the night with.

Buffy immediately shut her eyes again and started praying to whatever deity might be listening. Maybe if she concentrated really, really hard this would all turn out to just be a terrible nightmare. She promised to never complain about Dawn again. She promised to train harder. She promised to always listen to Giles and to not roll her eyes when he was explaining demony stuff. She promised to never, ever, _ever_ look at boys ever again. She would so join that convent she visited once. She would be the best nun-Slayer the world had ever seen.

“Jesus Christ,” a horrifyingly familiar voice muttered next to her. “What the hell time is it?”

Buffy heaved a sigh. You get raised from the dead one time and suddenly the Powers That Be refuse to grant you any more miracles. She decided to pretend to be asleep as a last ditch effort to retain plausible deniability. She squeezed her eyelids together tightly and didn’t move. Something sharp was digging into the back of her knee and it was very annoying. Almost as annoying as the vampire in the room with her.

“Know you’re not asleep, Slayer.” Spike sounded amused, damn him. Something softer and marginally more comfortable than the thing against her knee shifted under her shoulder. Crap, she was lying on Spike. And she was naked.

It was official; her day could not get any worse.

Footsteps sounded on the floor above her head, causing Buffy’s eyes to fly open. Spike was smirking at her like the infuriating man—vampire—he was, his arms folded under his head and his pale torso practically glowing in the dim morning light.

“Please tell me that’s a demon.” Buffy turned her head slightly towards Spike but refused to let her eyes linger on anything below his neck. She seriously needed to avoid all distractions. And find her clothes.

Spike lifted an eyebrow and spent a moment contemplating the hole in the ceiling above them. “Sorry, love, no such luck. Have to take out your frustration on me, I’m afraid.” His other eyebrow lifted as he waggled them both suggestively.

Buffy rolled away from him and covered her face with her hands. “Spike!”

“What? I’m just trying to help!” He sounded entirely too cheerful for whatever ungodly hour of the morning it was.

The floorboards upstairs stopped creaking. “Hello?” a timid-sounding voice called. “Is someone there?”

Buffy swore under her breath and sat up, looking around for her clothes. Oh god, the place was a disaster area. She and Spike had really…no, she wasn’t thinking about that. What was wrong with her? He was a vampire! And not a good vampire, like Angel, but a real, actually evil one! Well, formerly-evil and currently chipped, but still, that was no excuse! Buffy considered her entire love life for a moment, deciding it totally rivaled a bad Lifetime movie plot, as panic set in. She seriously wasn’t seeing any clothing-like items in the basement of wherever they were.

“Where are my clothes?” Buffy hissed. Footsteps clomped around overhead. Spike had propped himself up on his elbows and was watching her. He seemed to have no compunction whatsoever about keeping his gaze above her neck. Buffy crossed one arm over her breasts and glared at him. “Stop looking at me!”

Spike grinned. “And miss such a lovely sight? Don’t go hiding your goodies on my account.”

Buffy squeaked in outrage (ignoring the thrill that ran up her spine at the compliment) and felt her face heat up. “Someone’s here! They’re going to see us!”

Spike’s expression suddenly darkened. “Oh, I see. Still too good for the likes of me?” He snorted. “I should have known. Once a bi-”

“Shh!” Buffy managed to get to her feet, ignoring the protesting muscles of her thighs, and listened with dread as the footsteps started descending a staircase. “Will you stop whining for ten seconds and move?”

“I do not whine!” Spike’s lower lip snuck out in a pout as he allowed Buffy to pull him to his feet and drag him to a darker corner of the basement. She ignored him, still scanning the floor for her clothes. Seriously, she’d had like three layers on and now she couldn’t find even one? Spike took advantage of her distraction to cop a feel, pinching her butt and making her jump.

“I swear to god,” Buffy started to hiss.

“Hello?” A blond head poked through a doorway on the far side of the room. Spike made a surprised noise and Buffy elbowed him, holding her breath as the stranger looked around, frowning. “Huh,” the guy said, one hand on his hip. “Weird.” He gave the basement a last suspicious look before going back up the stairs. Buffy let herself breathe normally again as she heard him start dragging something around.

“Do you know him?” Buffy asked, turning to Spike. Her gaze inadvertently landed on his chest and she started following the lean lines of his torso down towards his…shoot! Buffy wrenched her eyes back up to his face, but Spike looked entirely too pleased with himself. He was doing that damn lip-biting thing too. She’d almost forgotten he was all naked and…distracting. She seriously needed to get out of this place. And possibly get some professional help. Were there therapists for the supernaturally-gifted? Maybe she could call Giles and ask. After she came up with a reason that wasn’t: ‘I boinked Spike into the ground and I think I’d like seconds.’

 Spike sighed in disappointment as Buffy stepped away, her arm still firmly tucked over her breasts to hide them from view. Sort of. There wasn’t much she could do about the rest of her at the moment. “Recognize him from somewhere, can’t remember his name though.” Spike shrugged and stepped closer, one of his hands clasping her elbow and drawing her towards him again. “Not important,” he murmured. “Now, where were we?” His other hand had snuck around to caress the spot where he’d pinched her.

“Nowhere,” Buffy said firmly, smacking his hand away. “I seriously have to get out of here. We can’t-”

The loud rumble of a large vehicle interrupted whatever really good reason for never seeing him again she was so totally going to come up with any second now. Buffy listened with growing horror as the lone guy upstairs was joined by what sounded like an entire sports team. People were starting to stomp heavily to and fro overhead, avoiding the hole in the floor and yelling to each other about things that made absolutely no sense to Buffy. Who the heck would come here to do crafting and why was everyone ignoring the guy yelling about shooting stuff?

Even Spike seemed distracted. He was gazing up at the ceiling, hands on his hips. Buffy snuck one last glance down below his waistline, which she deserved because of the whole possibly-becoming-a-nun thing. A final look couldn’t hurt, she rationalized, since it was probably the last one she’d ever see in real life.

“Bring the camera down!” someone yelled from the stairs. “I want to see how the lighting is in the basement for the renovation shots.”

“Shit,” Buffy blurted out, shaking herself from her stupor and grabbing Spike’s wrist. Spike let her pull him further into the basement and shove him behind a pile of house debris. She squeezed in beside him, trying really hard not to actually touch him. She was almost positive that this whole, terrible ordeal had started when she’d made the mistake of touching him. Spike propped himself against the basement wall and ran a hand through his unruly hair, giving her a little smirking smile that made her want to break his nose. Mostly.

Buffy sighed unhappily, wondering how the hell they were going to get past all these people. Maybe she could sneak out, but Spike was stuck until it got a little less sunny outside. She could ditch him, but then what if he managed to do something bad to the humans tromping around this place? He was mostly harmless, but she still didn’t trust him as far as she…as Xander could throw him.

More than one set of feet came thumping down the basement stairs and she winced. Great, an entire crowd was here to witness her shame and humiliation. 

Maybe she just had to wait this out. No one could possibly want to spend all day in this dump. All she had to do was dredge up some patience from somewhere and keep Spike from giving away their hiding place. Buffy’s brain unhelpfully provided several ways to keep Spike occupied, accompanied by some very graphic memories from last night. She swallowed a whimper and kept her gaze steady on the pile of junk in front of her as she fought a full-body blush. Spike made a noise of interest beside her just as Buffy realized what she was doing and stopped herself mid-lean, her shoulder barely an inch from Spike’s chest. She hastily straightened up and decided she really needed to look into getting that therapy.

The people on the other side of the room were saying something and Buffy concentrated on their voices to see if she could hear what they were saying.

“…someone must know something about it! It looks like a bunch of hooligans partied here last night, and that hole certainly wasn’t there yesterday. It’s a damn safety hazard!”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure we can find someone to fix…”

“You’d better, Gary. This is going to completely throw off the shooting schedule. We’ll have to rethink the whole damn opening scene!”

Buffy tried not to hyperventilate as she listened with dawning comprehension. “Oh my god, they’re filming a TV show.”

Spike had managed to maneuver himself so he was pressed against her back. He began kissing up the side of her neck and Buffy felt her entire body break out in goosebumps as his hands skated over the curves of her hips, heading northward. “Spike,” Buffy managed, clamping her own hands over his exploring fingers. “Not now.” He sucked one of her earlobes into his mouth and bit it gently, making her gasp.

“Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while,” he coaxed.

“We can’t.”

“But we already did.”

“We shouldn’t have!”

“Why not?” Spike was nibbling on her collarbone and he’d dragged her hand up along with his own to knead one of her breasts.

“It’s wrong,” Buffy said weakly, her head falling back against Spike’s shoulder. Her body was doing a really excellent job of undermining her determination, the traitor.

She angled her face towards him, just enough to allow for a kiss, and Spike took her up on the unspoken invitation with gusto. Buffy melted against him as a fire roared to life in her belly. How was it possible that he was the one who made her feel this way? Granted, her experience was fairly limited, but even Angel’s kisses had never ignited her body like this. She lost herself in the feel of his mouth pressed against hers and turned slightly so that her fingertips could trace the delicious ridges of his torso. Spike made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan that made her shudder with need as they fell back against the wall and promptly knocked something over. The loud clatter echoed though the entire room.

Buffy froze, her eyes popping open, and shoved Spike away. “Stop that!” she whispered fiercely.

Spike’s jaw dropped, his expression somewhere between hurt and anger. “What the hell’s the matter now?”

Buffy shushed him irritably and strained to hear what was happening on the other side of the basement.

Spike let out an annoyed sigh. “They’re sending someone to fetch flashlights so they can check for rats.”

“Dammit.” Buffy scowled at the vampire. “What are we going to do?”

Spike dropped his head back against the wall with a thunk. “Not, apparently, what I’d like to be doing.”

Buffy felt her face heat up. “I don’t want them catching us in here!”

“Why not?”

Buffy stared at Spike incredulously before edging towards one side of the junk pile and cautiously peeking out. She didn’t see anyone, so she crept slowly towards the basement steps. A few feet later she turned to glare at Spike, who rolled his eyes and strolled over to stand next to her, crossing his arms. “How are you planning on getting by the crew upstairs?”

“I’ll think of something,” Buffy insisted.

Spike lifted one eyebrow. “Slayer, with as much skin as you’re showing right now you couldn’t sneak past the dead.”

Buffy couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult, so she decided to just ignore it. She cast a look around the basement. “We just need like…a tarp or something. Then we can get you to the nearest sewer and I can forget this nightmare ever happened.”

Spike’s scowl deepened. “Nightmare? More like the stuff of dreams, Slayer. You can’t tell me that you didn’t-”

“Uh, hello?” a third voice piped up behind her.

Buffy wondered how much it would cost to move to Siberia.


	2. Drilled

Buffy whirled around, her hands automatically balling into fists as she faced the intruder. The blond kid from earlier was staring at her with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Buffy let out a tiny yip of realization and clapped her hands over her breasts, moving so she was mostly hidden behind Spike.

“Uh,” the kid said again, his expression glazed.

Spike snapped his fingers. “Hey, you’re one of those nerds.”  He seemed unconcerned about his state of complete undress.

The kid blinked rapidly, his expression turning worshipful. “Andrew,” the blonde said. “You remember me?”

“Uh, sure,” Spike hedged. “Look, the lady would like to get out of here. Can you give us a hand?”

Andrew stared anxiously at Spike and then up towards the ground floor of the house they were in. “I’m really supposed to be working. See, there’s some rats down here or something and we’re about to start filming but Gary said the crew won’t work somewhere all rat-infested and-” Andrew gasped suddenly. “Oh my gosh, that was you guys!” His eyes drifted down Spike’s bare chest. “Um, what were you doing, exactly? Was there a demon or something?”  

Spike ran a hand through his messy hair as Buffy put on her best innocent face for Andrew. It didn’t seem to work very well, which she assumed was mostly due to her awkward position of having to hide her nakedness behind an equally naked vampire. At least her view wasn’t bad. “Oh, there was definitely a demon,” Spike said, sounding pleased with himself. Buffy poked him sharply in the back with one her elbows. “Ow!” Spike half-turned towards her, his hands on his hips. “What was that for?”

“Less talk-y, more walk-y,” Buffy hissed.

Spike narrowed his eyes. “You know, sometimes I have no idea why I put up with you.”

Buffy momentarily forgot their audience, straightening up and matching his glare with one of her own. “Why you put up with _me_?” she asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re evil, Spike, and I’m the Slayer! I put up with you!” She paused for a moment, her nose wrinkling. “For some reason.”

Andrew raised his hand. “Um, I might have some ide-”

“Oh, sure!” Spike threw up his hands. “Blame the vampire, that’s your solution to everything, isn’t it?”

Buffy made an offended noise. “Only when it’s true!”

“Really? Because I don’t recall you complaining last night.”

Andrew gasped delightedly. 

“Spike!” Buffy squeaked. She tucked her arms more firmly over her breasts and crossed her legs in an attempt to cover at least some parts of herself. “We weren’t going to talk about that!”

“You weren’t going to talk about it,” Spike grumbled.

“Oh my gosh,” Andrew breathed. “This is so romantic.”

Buffy forgot whatever retort was on the tip of her tongue. “What?”

Spike looked just as nonplussed. Andrew sighed dramatically. “The Vampire and the Slayer. No wait: The Slayer and Her Vampire.” He furrowed his brow in concentration. “Or…”

“Oh my god,” Buffy groaned. She really wished she had a third hand to smack her own forehead with. Of course the person to catch her like this would know Spike was a vampire. And would think that wasn’t a terrible, awful thing. She had the worst luck in the world.

Spike snorted. “Oh right, like I’d ever be ‘her vampire’. Not when ol’ soulful is still moping about like a ponce.”

Buffy found her voice again. “You leave Angel out of this!”

“Maybe I would if you’d stop fawning over him like he’s something special!”

“He _is_ special!”

Spike made a scoffing sound and cast his eyes up to the ceiling. “I need a smoke.”

Andrew was looking back and forth between them, his expression alternating between distress and confusion. “Who’s Angel?”

“He’s…none of your business.” Buffy caught herself before she revealed her first vampire, um, dalliance. There was no way her relationship with Angel and the previous night with Spike were even remotely similar. For one thing, Spike was just as evil now as he was yesterday, and apparently way more difficult to get rid of. 

“Where was he when we were fighting the Hellbitch, huh?” Spike continued, seemingly ranting at the floorboards overhead. “Or when Dawn was left all alone? Oh, that’s right, he was too busy ‘helping the helpless’ to bother with some tart he used to shag.”

“Stop it,” Buffy choked out, fighting to keep her sudden tears at bay. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah? What was it like then?” Spike wasn’t meeting her eyes and for some reason that bothered Buffy almost more than the horrible things coming out of his mouth. He’d always been able to piss her off with his words, but he’d never been a coward about facing her when he said them. “Couldn’t have been worse than this.” Buffy heard him mutter under his breath.

She inhaled sharply and tried not to think about the first time she’d ever met Angelus, the morning after she and Angel had…well. Buffy turned her head away and quickly wiped her eyes. “It was.”

“What?” Spike finally turned to face her again.

“It was worse.”

Spike stared at her for a moment, seemingly puzzled, before sighing heavily. “Can’t even win the title of most evil with you, can I?”

Buffy opened her mouth and then closed it again. She wasn’t really sure how to dispute that when Spike’s version of evil wasn’t even close to Angelus’.

“Bad breakup, huh?” Andrew interjected sympathetically. “Hey, was that the old guy who was with you at prom?”

Spike snorted a poorly-concealed laugh and this time Buffy was the one sighing. “He’s not…you know what, it’s not important.”

Andrew nodded seriously. “Yeah, you’re right, Spike’s way cooler. He’s like…Han or something.”

“Huh?” Buffy was lost.

“I am not!” Spike said, offended. “I mean, sure, maybe at the beginning, but then he turned into a nancy boy.”

“He did it all for love,” Andrew said dreamily. Buffy would swear he actually fluttered his eyelashes at Spike. Her eyebrows lifted and even Spike seemed at a loss for words. The vampire sidled in her direction and moved behind her, eyeing Andrew warily.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Sure, he’s Ron or whoever.”

“Han!” Andrew corrected immediately.

“Yes, him,” Buffy continued impatiently. “And we could really use your help. Seriously, Andrew, we need to get out of here. Do you think you could find a blanket or a tarp or something and…”

“Hey, was it rats?” someone called from the top of the stairs.

Buffy felt the blood drain out of her face. “Give me your shirt,” she whispered frantically to Andrew.

Andrew looked down at the short-sleeved blue dress shirt he was wearing. “My mom just got me this,” he said, apparently confused. “So I’d look nice for work.”

“It looks great,” Buffy said desperately, “but I am literally wearing nothing and I’d really like to not be arrested this morning.”

“But-”

“You’re wearing a t-shirt under it!” Buffy hissed through her teeth as someone started coming down the stairs. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart rate. The number of people who had seen her naked had basically doubled in the last twelve hours and she really didn’t want that figure tripling. 

Andrew started unbuttoning his shirt with fumbling fingers. Spike cleared his throat behind her. “Uh, might want to hurry.”

“Hello?” the voice called from the stairs.

Buffy knocked Andrew’s hands away and undid a couple more buttons before yanking the shirt off over his head and tugging it down over her own. Andrew clutched his hands over his t-shirt-covered chest like he was the naked one now. “Whoa,” he said, his eyes wide and wondering. “A girl’s never...Is it usually so forceful?”

“Only with this one,” Spike replied. Buffy aimed a kick at his shin that he managed to avoid as she started doing up the buttons of Andrew’s shirt. She tugged the back down over her behind just as another guy made his appearance.

“Hey, did you…who are these people?” Some guy carrying a clipboard stared at Buffy and Spike in annoyance.

“Uh, Gary, these are my friends,” Andrew said, throwing them a terribly concealed wink. Buffy closed her eyes and reminded herself that he was their best shot at getting out of there.

Gary the clipboard guy put his hands on his hips. Despite his obvious annoyance, the worry lines were never completely erased from his forehead. His brown hair was short and shaggy and in dire need of a comb. “Look, you signed the paperwork saying you understood the rules, and if you can’t follow them I’m afraid…”

“No, um, this is my friend who’s also going to be working here!” Andrew interrupted, sounding desperate.

Gary consulted his clipboard, frowning. “It says here you signed up with someone named Jonathan.”

“Uh...” Andrew faltered.

Buffy let out a false, high-pitched laugh. “Oh, everyone always gets my name wrong. It’s _Joan_ -athan actually.”

Gary blinked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, you said…Joanathan?”

“My mom really wanted a boy.” Buffy sent up a silent apology to her mother for dragging her into this. Spike chortled behind her.

“Uh, okay?” Gary made a note on his clipboard. “Well, you’re late.”

“I was just…checking out the damage down here. Boy, what happened, huh?” Buffy forced another laugh, wincing internally at how inane she sounded.  

Gary raised his eyebrows and glanced at Spike. “Right, and this is…?”

“Spike.” Spike shrugged one shoulder. “I was just leaving.”

“He’s, um, part of the construction crew,” Andrew said quickly.

Gary didn’t seem impressed, perusing his clipboard with a small frown. “And you usually work…like this? Seems like a safety hazard.” He gestured at Spike, who had cocked a naked hip and was staring Gary down without a hint of unease. Buffy envied him a little. She was never that confident about anything, except maybe her ability to kill things.

“Ran into a little problem earlier.” Spike gave Gary a wolfish smile and Buffy straightened out the front of her borrowed shirt, trying to look slightly less like she’d just spent the night being very acrobatic in a basement with a naked vampire.

Gary snorted. “Sure, pal. Listen, you aren’t on the schedule until tomorrow.”

“Must have gotten my dates crossed,” Spike said easily. Buffy scowled at him. If he managed to get out of here without her she was totally going to kill him.

Gary contemplated Spike, tilting his head to one side. “Actually…since you’re here, we could probably use you.”

Spike frowned. “Hey, I don’t…” But Gary was already gone, pounding back up the stairs and yelling for someone else.

“Let’s go, quick,” Buffy suggested, heading for the stairs.

Andrew was suddenly standing in front of her, his expression panicked. “You can’t go now!”

“What?” Buffy halted. “Why?”

“I don’t want to get fired!” Andrew wailed. “They think you’re here to help with the shoot. If you leave and they know we’re friends…” He straightened up. “Ooh, I’m Lando! Except without all that pesky betrayal.”

“What?” Buffy repeated, bewildered.

“Please, you’re that big hairy one,” Spike replied.

Andrew’s face screwed up in concentration. “Well, Chewy’s cool, I guess.” He beamed at Spike. “That means we’re best friends!”

Buffy started giggling at the expression on Spike’s face. “Oh, that’s nice. Spike, you finally made a friend! It only took you, what, four years on the hellmouth?” She leaned closer to Spike. “He seems nice.”

Spike scowled at her. “I have friends!”

“We better get to work,” Andrew said cheerfully.

Buffy opened her mouth to say no just as her brain registered something important. “Wait, are they paying us?”

“Um, yeah? I mean, it’s not much but they said if I did a good job I could help with other shoots and there’s this one camera guy who said I could carry his stuff around all day and Spike’s strong so he can help too and-”

“Hey, I’m strong!” Buffy protested before all of Andrew’s words sank in. “Hold on—Spike?” She gestured at the still-naked vampire behind her. “He’s a vampire!”

Andrew shrugged. “They’re doing interior shots today, it should be okay.” His eyes lit up. “Oh, I think I saw an umbrella earlier. I’ll go get it just in case.” He bounded up the stairs before Buffy could respond.

“I meant he’s evil!” she called after Andrew, not really expecting an answer. “He doesn’t work for a living!”

“Could,” Spike said behind her.

“What?” Buffy spun around, annoyed.

“Could work for a living, if I wanted.” He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Just don’t, that’s all. Get my money elsewhere.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, from kitten poker and probably worse. The rest of us have to worry about things like bills and little sisters and plumbing issues, okay?”

Spike stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Heard about that,” he finally said.

Buffy was just about to ask who he’d heard it from when they were interrupted by a whole crowd. Gary was back, though he was mostly just checking things off on his clipboard while rapidly speaking into a headset. He was followed down the stairs by a bottle-blonde girl in skintight pants and a frazzled-looking older man.

“He’s part of the crew? Yeah, he’ll do,” the older man grunted before heading back the way he’d come.

“I’ll say,” the blonde girl murmured, her gaze raking the vampire from head to toe. “Come on, hon. I’m not complaining, but the big boss doesn’t like distractions. I’ve got some things that would look just perfect on you.”

Buffy felt a bubble of anger start to form in the pit of her stomach just as Andrew appeared, clutching a battered black umbrella. “Here you go, Spike!” Andrew chirped. Was she the only one left in this town who remembered how dangerous vampires were? And could that girl throw herself any harder at Spike?

Spike took the proffered item with a little flourish and grinned charmingly at the blonde girl. “Sorry, I’m very sensitive to sunlight. I didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.”

“I’m Megan.” The girl giggled. “And if I had had your skin, I’d stay out of the sun, too.” Her eyes were definitely not looking at Spike’s face. Spike tossed a smirk over his shoulder at Buffy as he climbed the stairs. Buffy pressed her lips into a thin line and reminded herself that he was chipped, so he couldn’t hurt humans. Well, except for her, apparently. Buffy’s shoulders slumped.

“Ready?” Andrew asked her eagerly.

“For what?” Buffy replied morosely.

“Hey, new girl!” Gary barked at her from the top of the stairs, looking harried. “You can have your boyfriend back at the end of the day. Come on, we’re already behind schedule!” Andrew scurried up and out of the basement while Buffy followed more slowly.

“He’s not my…” Buffy trailed off as she reached the top of the stairs. “Boyfriend,” she finished to the empty air. No one ever listened to her.


	3. Bulldozed

Buffy knocked on the doorframe of a large trailer. She could see the top of two blonde heads behind a rack of clothing and, unfortunately, hear Megan’s apparently inexhaustible commentary about Spike’s potential wardrobe choices. Buffy loudly cleared her throat in a completely not-bothered way.

“Yeah?” Megan peeked around a rack of heavy coats. Who brought an entire rack of coats to Sunnydale? “Oh, it’s you.” Megan frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting coffee for everyone or something?”

Buffy pasted on a smile. “Actually, it turns out you need shoes for that.” She gestured at her bare feet. “Mine have disappeared so they sent me here.”

Megan waved a careless hand towards a haphazard stack of shoes that looked more like they belonged in the trash than on anyone’s feet. “Go ahead and pick anything from there.” Buffy started to protest but the other girl had disappeared again. Scowling, Buffy picked up what appeared to be an old bowling shoe with the sole peeling off while Megan cooed over a stupid vampire who would have totally eaten her if he didn’t have a government chip in his head. “Oh no, black doesn’t do you justice! Take that off and let’s try this one.” Spike’s rumbled reply was too quiet for Buffy to make out.

Buffy was making a face at all the gross shoes she was so not going to wear when she spotted a familiar pair of boots in the pile. She gasped and snatched her boots back, hugging them tightly. Maybe the rest of her clothes were in here too! She cast a critical eye around while zipping on a boot just as Andrew poked his head in the trailer. “Ready? This is going to be so much fun!” he chirped enthusiastically.

Buffy stifled an irritated sigh and zipped the other boot on, frowning down at the shapeless shirt she was wearing. Another rack caught her eye and Buffy smirked in the direction of Megan’s totally annoying voice before helping herself to a really cute belt and a chunky necklace. She could out-fashion that bimbo any day, Buffy decided, smoothing down the front of her repurposed shirt-dress. She really would have liked to find some underwear, but from the state of the shoe pile she was probably better off without any.

“Ooh, I like that one.” Megan’s voice floated out from the back as Buffy lifted her chin and exited the trailer. “But how about-” Buffy stomped off before she said something she’d probably regret later.

Andrew was waiting outside. He looked past her with a hopeful expression on his face. “Is Spike coming?”

“He sure as hell better not be,” Buffy muttered.

Andrew seemed confused, but Buffy was starting to think that was kind of his default state. “Oh, well, we have to help get everything set up.”

“Fine,” Buffy said in resignation and followed him back towards the wreck of a house she should have left hours ago. They passed a bulldozer parked out front and Buffy hoped that maybe they were going to raze the place when this was over. She crossed her fingers briefly. The fewer tangible reminders of her Spike-shaped mistake, the better.

“It’s so cool how you’re together,” Andrew announced happily as they scooted around the hole in the floor that made Buffy blush when she remembered how it got there.

Buffy glanced at him, bewildered. “Who’s together?”

“You and Spike! I mean, he was kinda mean that one time I met him, but it was a high stress situation and I was really worried about the Fett. I always get itchy when I’m nervous, and sometimes I break out in hives, so we didn’t really get to talk or anything, but since you’re dating him I guess most of that stuff I heard about him must be true, huh?”

“What stuff?” Buffy was totally lost. “And I am not dating Spike!”

“But…” Andrew trailed off as his eyes widened. “Ooh,” he breathed, his voice lowering in volume slightly. “Is it a secret? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Andrew sighed dreamily. “He is so cool, pretending to be all mean and threatening when he’s really helping you fight evil. Like James Bond pretending to be Russian.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped and she spent a moment attempting to find the tracks Andrew’s train of thought was using before giving up. “I’m not-”

“Hey, so if someone hypothetically might have done a little bit of evil stuff—not that it was his idea or anything!—but then he, like, totally saw the light recently, you’d be cool with that, right?”

“What?” Buffy repeated helplessly. Maybe this whole real job thing was overrated. She really wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to get through an entire day of working with Andrew.

“It wasn’t me, I swear! I was just, um, in the room for most of it. But now I’m totally redeemed!” Andrew’s hands were flapping around nervously in the air. “I’m like…Luke! And Spike is my Obi Wan.” He frowned. “Well, except they never accidentally went to the Dark Side. Maybe it’s more like…”

Buffy decided that for her own sanity she should probably just pretend she knew what he was talking about. “Andrew,” she interrupted as he drew breath, most likely in preparation for another enthusiastic speech about whatever the heck he was babbling about. “Uh, we’ll talk about that all later okay?” Hopefully with someone in the room that might be able to interpret. “You think Spike is helping me?”

Andrew frowned. “All the other demons say he is.” He got a nervous look on his face. “I mean, I’ve heard. They’ve tried to kill him a few times but he always beats them up.” The worshipful look was back. “He’s, like, a really amazing fighter. Hey, were you sick this summer or something? Because you seem way scarier now.”

“Thank you?”

“Oh my gosh, is that when you fell in love? The Vampire Protecting the Slayer as She Recovers From…something.” His voice had that weird tone again, like he was reading aloud. “Hey, what was wrong with you this summer?” Andrew turned to look at her, his eyes wide and guileless.

Buffy felt a chill run up her spine at the question. The tips of her fingers started going numb as she fought to maintain her composure. Andrew didn’t understand what he was asking, she told herself. He didn’t know about any of it. “I…” she tried.

“Nothing,” Spike’s voice came from behind her and she jumped, startled. She felt his hand settle on the small of her back and while she knew it was impossible, her skin seemed to warm at the touch. “There’s nothing wrong with her,” Spike glared at Andrew like he was daring the kid to contradict him. “She’s fine, so drop it.”

Andrew took a step back. “Uh, okay?”

Buffy regained her equilibrium and moved away from Spike, turning to face him. He was wearing low-slung jeans and a flannel shirt that he hadn’t bothered to button. Or, more likely, Megan had removed all the buttons from it, Buffy thought disdainfully. Probably with her teeth. Buffy glared at the vampire. “I don’t need your help.”

A muscle in Spike’s jaw ticked. “Of course not. God forbid you be seen talking to the likes of me.”

“He already thinks we’re…a thing!” Buffy hissed, jerking her head frantically in Andrew’s direction.

Andrew solemnly lifted one hand up, palm facing out. “I swear on a stack of limited edition original trilogy DVD’s that I won’t tell a soul.”

“Wha-” Buffy rubbed one temple. “Sure, that’d be great, Andrew.”

“Tell a soul about what?” Spike asked suspiciously.

Andrew’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you know, how you’re secretly a good guy and helping the Slayer root out evil and…”

“Oi!” Spike glanced around frantically. “I’m not good! Don’t say that sort of thing so loud.”

“See?” Buffy gestured at Spike. “So obviously we can’t be, you know, together.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“But what about…” Andrew looked between them.

“I’m not helping the ice queen.” Spike jerked his thumb at Buffy. “I’m here for someone else.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, Spike, like you even know anyone else. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Spike scowled at her. “Is that so? Reckon I made up watching over your sis all summer, taking care of her while you were…gone, then.”

“I knew it!” Andrew clasped his hands together. “Was it like, a strength-sapping spell or something?”

“I never asked for your help!” Buffy blurted out.

Spike leaned in so close that she could make out flecks of darker blue in his eyes. “Don’t you dare lie about that.”

“I’m not…” Buffy clamped her lips shut as her mind caught up with her words and she visibly flinched.

“That’s right, you remembering now? And I kept my promise, didn’t I? Dawn was safe, and she’ll stay that way as long as I’m around.”

Buffy blinked back hot tears. “I don’t need your help anymore.”

“Told you, I’m not helping you. But I keep my promises.”

Buffy took a breath, trying to regain her equilibrium. If he wasn’t doing it for her (and that stung a little more than she was willing to admit) then who… “Dawn?”

Spike shrugged and looked away. “She’s been wanting a few things you lot can’t afford. No need for her to be punished for your mates’ bad accounting.”

“They were helping!”

“Yeah?” Spike’s gaze was intense as he turned to stare at her again. “Helped you right back to the hellmouth, didn’t they?”

This time a tear did escape, sliding down Buffy’s cheek. “They didn’t know.”

“Well, now they do. Doesn’t look like much has changed though, does it?” Spike crossed his arms. “Meantime, I can do what I like for whoever I like.”

Andrew was staring, fascinated, at the two of them. “Hey, can you guys go back to part about Spike’s undying pledge? This would make a totally epic screenplay.”

“Oh, look at that!” Buffy said with forced cheer. “I think that guy needs some help.” She marched off towards a man wrestling with something and left Spike to fend for himself against Andrew. Served the vampire right, she decided, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes.

Buffy smiled at the man struggling to carry a big case. “I’ve got it!” she sang out, reaching for the handle.

“Careful, it’s really…” The guy’s mouth dropped open as Buffy lifted it effortlessly with one hand. “…heavy?” he finished. She finally recognized him as clipboard guy.

“Where does this go? Gary, right?”

Gary nodded and cracked what she thought might be a real, genuine smile. “Wow, uh, just over there?” He pointed to the far end of the main room of the house and Buffy headed that way.

There was a tangle of equipment in the corner but no one else was around so she just set the case down and surveyed the room. It was a total disaster. How the heck were they going to sell this makeover show when the place looked like it was going to fall down any second? There was the caved-in spot in the wall where she and Spike had…well. She turned. And there was the broken fireplace mantle where they’d…yikes. Buffy turned again. And there was the dangling light fixture she’d yanked down while the vampire had…oh dear. She really wasn’t sure how she was going to get through this without losing what was left of her mind.

Money, Buffy reminded herself firmly, think about the money. She pictured the stack of past due bills waiting for her at home. Yeah, she was just going to have to figure out how to ignore Spike for the rest of the day.

Buffy paused for a moment, thinking about how serious Spike had sounded about doing this for Dawn. She sighed unhappily, realizing that once again the vampire was totally going to upstage her in the eyes of her sister. He was probably going to get Dawn something stupid and frivolous like a super cute pair of jeans or some tickets to a concert featuring boys dancing in sync while the cutest one sang. Buffy’s lower lip starting sneaking out. She could use a cute new pair of jeans too, but no, she had to be all responsible and pay the electricity people. Life was so unfair.

A high-pitched screech interrupted her self-pity.

She spun around, heading back towards the front of the house. There was a cluster of people around Spike and her heart rate picked up. Oh no, what had he done? She’d only been gone for two minutes! Buffy hurried in their direction just in time to hear Megan’s high-pitched voice rise above the din.

“Oh, I’ve got just the thing!”

Some guy Buffy hadn’t met nodded in approval. “He’s perfect. I want the bare minimum.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, sir,” Megan simpered.

“But what about the hole?” the older man Buffy recognized from the basement protested. “We’ve got to get it fixed!” 

“No one’s going to be looking at the hole,” the other guy said. “Get him into wardrobe.”

With that, Megan dragged Spike out of the house by one wrist, Andrew hurrying after them with an open umbrella.

“What’s going on?” Buffy whispered to Gary, who was hovering around the fringes as always.

“They’re going to make your boyfriend a star,” Gary said distractedly, muttering something under his breath as he scribbled on his every-present clipboard.

“He’s not my…” Buffy was alone again, standing next to the hole in the floor. She was starting to suspect the Powers might be trying to tell her something.


	4. Measured

“Do you know how to put up wallpaper?” Gary asked distractedly. A lot of people were bustling around the main room of the house. There were so many lights being set up that Buffy was starting to squint from the glare.

“Wallpaper?”

“Great,” Gary was frowning over her shoulder at something. “I’ll get you some, start on that wall.” He pointed somewhere vaguely to her left and disappeared, leaving her to look around in confusion. She went over to a random wall she hoped was the one he meant, mostly to get out of everyone’s way. Maybe if she just stood there quietly all day no one would notice and she’d still get paid.

Andrew appeared a minute later to foil her plans with a box full of rolled up wallpaper and an annoyingly happy expression on his face. “Oh boy, this is great!” He dropped the box at Buffy’s feet and pulled out a swirly-patterned pastel print. His nose wrinkled. “Ugh, not this one.”

Buffy yanked out one on top (a truly hideous avocado paisley) and held it up. “This one’s fine. Why are we putting this up? Shouldn’t someone fix the wall first?”

Andrew shrugged and handed her a bucket of glue. “I didn’t ask, but I’m sure there’s a reason. Isn’t this exciting?”

Buffy eyed the bucket labeled ‘Carpenter’s Glue’ that Andrew had handed her and was briefly thankful she wasn’t wearing her own clothes. She was pretty sure this was going to be a disaster. Andrew struggled to unroll and measure the ugly wallpaper as she carefully opened the bucket and found a spot for it on the ground. “I don’t think this is the right kind of glue,” she said doubtfully.

“Gary said we just have to get it to stick for a little while.” Andrew shrugged. “It’s for Spike.”

“The wallpaper is for Spike?” Buffy was thoroughly confused.

“Shh! Here he comes, hand me some glue!” Andrew turned to the wall, his hand held out insistently for the battered paintbrush Buffy dipped into the glue and handed him. She stepped away just far enough so that the wallpaper strip he was struggling with probably wouldn’t land on her head and almost ran into Gary.

“Great, great,” Gary was muttering, eyeing the wallpaper as he scribbled rapidly on his clipboard. “Just slap it up, we’ve got to get the cameras rolling.” He glanced at Buffy, who hastily grabbed her own strip of wallpaper and a brush dripping with glue.

She made a face at Gary’s back as he walked away, barking orders at some poor crew member. A flash of blond distracted her and she almost dropped her paintbrush when she caught sight of Spike. The vampire was now dressed—if you could call it that—in a pair of cutoff denim shorts and…nothing else. Megan was traipsing along beside him looking immensely pleased with herself. Buffy narrowed her eyes at the other girl.

“What are they _doing_?” Buffy managed to say through gritted teeth.

Andrew turned to follow her gaze, his hands smoothing down the strip of wallpaper he’d somehow successfully adhered to the wall. “Uh, getting ready for filming?”

“Filming what? I thought this was some kind of house fixing show!”

Andrew furrowed his brow. “They didn’t tell me.” He shrugged. “Hey, hand me that piece?” He pointed to the wallpaper strip dangling from Buffy’s hands. She handed it over without comment, still staring suspiciously at Spike. She was pretty sure this wasn’t his doing, but sometimes his evil schemes were really weird, so maybe she should keep an eye on him, just in case. At that moment, Spike stretched his arms up over his head, making the shorts he was wearing ride dangerously low and drawing Buffy’s gaze to the exposed line of his hip which led to… Yeah, definitely keep an eye on him, she absently repeated to herself. 

Andrew let out a squawk of surprise behind her. “Help!” His voice was slightly muffled. When Buffy finally shook herself out of her daze and turned, she found him draped with a partial sheet of wallpaper while he frantically tried to keep the rest of it on the wall. She sighed and went to help, dragging over an abandoned chair and standing on it to reach the top part of the wall. Andrew studiously avoided looking up her shirt-dress, for which she was grateful. If it had been Spike helping, the makeshift wallpaper glue would be all over her by now and none of this would get done. Whatever it was they were doing.

“How much of this are we supposed to put up?” Buffy asked, smacking the upper corners of the wallpaper and praying it would stick long enough to make Gary happy. Whatever was in that glue bucket seemed to be doing the job well enough. Andrew was attempting to peel a scrap of wallpaper off his arm to no avail.

“Um, this whole wall I think?” Andrew frowned and yanked the wallpaper piece on his arm harder, but it didn’t come off. “Ow!” He cradled his elbow and blinked away tears. “I’ll, um, get it later.” He sniffed. “I think the dust is getting to me.”

Buffy lifted an eyebrow. “Sure. Next piece?” While Andrew was busy getting another strip of wallpaper, Buffy snuck another glance in Spike’s direction. This time she dropped the paintbrush she was holding and gasped.

Spike was relaxing in a chair with his back to her, his arms folded behind his head and his legs spread wide while Megan knelt between them, busily doing…Buffy turned her head, her face flaming. How could she be so stupid as to think he might actually care about anyone but himself? He was a vampire! And evil! Of course what they’d done together meant nothing to him. Just like it should mean nothing to her. Buffy felt sick to her stomach.

“Hey, Joanathan!” Gary was standing on the other side of the room and looked completely bored by what was happening practically next to him. What kind of people were these? Andrew poked her in the back and Buffy belatedly remembered that was her name for today.

“Yes?” she barely got out. Her throat felt really dry and her eyes were kind of weirdly scratchy.

“Come here and hold this.” Gary indicated a light with his clipboard and started rapidly talking into his headset.

Buffy closed her eyes briefly before stiffening her spine and walking across the room. She refused to look at Spike and his newest…whatever. She’d never been so humiliated. To think she’d actually believed for even one moment that he…she caught a glimpse of Megan out of the corner of her eye as she reached the lamp and turned abruptly, staring. Oh.

Gary impatiently gestured at her and Buffy automatically lifted the light, angling it according to some directions Gary was being fed through his headset. Megan, meanwhile, was busy with a very large makeup brush and what looked like a well-used compact of bronzer.

“What…?” Buffy trailed off, not really sure what to ask.

“Too much glare,” Gary said briefly, apparently understanding.

Megan had her tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated on buffing the bronzer along the lines of Spike’s torso. Spike glanced Buffy’s way, looking bored, although something flickered briefly through his eyes when he saw Gary standing next to her.

Buffy’s mouth went even drier, and she seemed completely unable to stop watching the long, even strokes Megan was making across Spike’s skin. The fluffy brush the other girl was using looked like it would be ticklish, but Spike wasn’t moving in the least, his gaze settling somewhere in the vicinity of Buffy’s legs. She turned one foot in a little and flexed her calf muscles, because proper form when holding heavy things was very important.

Megan let out some kind of sighing, breathy noise that made Buffy want to punch her. Spike didn’t seem to notice. Buffy shifted her weight to one side and lifted the light a little higher, exposing a bit of her hip. Spike made a rumbling noise deep in his chest, causing Megan to pause in her bronzing and look up. “Oh, sorry, is this distracting?” The blonde smiled coyly and Buffy decided Megan totally didn’t deserve to get saved if she was going to throw herself at vampires so blatantly.

Buffy blew out an annoyed breath and Spike’s mouth turn up at the corners a little bit. She tore her gaze away from him and trained it on the opposite wall instead. Gary had disappeared again, which seemed to be his specialty.

“Just a little more,” Megan said cheerfully. “Can’t have you washed out on camera.” She returned to her task and Buffy found herself inexorably drawn back into watching the brush make long, smooth strokes up and down Spike’s thighs. The lean muscle of the vampire’s legs slowly turned golden, a little more defined that they were by nature. Megan leaned in close to get his inner thighs, her brush gliding all the way up to the edges of his shorts as Buffy remembered exactly how he’d used all that strength last night.

He could have killed her, could have drunk from her, could have done one of the million terrible things that vampires usually did, but instead he’d just…well. Buffy felt herself blush to the roots of her hair, her eyes helplessly following the brush as it trailed down almost all the way to his knee. And he’d done an excellent job of it, too, she admitted silently. Her legs had practically been jelly this morning.

“There,” Megan said with satisfaction, beaming up at Spike from her position on the floor. “All set. Think I missed anything?” The wink she sent him was entirely unsubtle, and Buffy felt something tighten in her chest.

Spike smirked down at Megan and sent her a wink of his own. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

Buffy huffed in irritation and dropped the light back onto its stand next to her. “Great, I’ve got to get back to work.” She stalked away without a backwards glance. She was so not in the mood to watch Spike flirt with that dumb blonde. It was entirely his fault she’d ended up in this mess in the first place. If he hadn’t been so…accommodating, and if she hadn’t let him goad her into touching him in the first place…

Buffy almost ran into Gary, who’d apparently been waiting for her. Andrew was still struggling with the wallpaper, one long strip draped across his head while he groped for the glue bucket set slightly out of his reach. “They just got done,” Buffy began to explain.

“Oh no, I just wanted to tell you you’re doing great.” Gary said. She was pretty sure he was smiling but the worry lines on his forehead didn’t quite go away. Maybe his face had mostly forgotten how to make happy expressions. Andrew leaned towards the glue but had to stop as the wallpaper started to twist, making a slight tearing sound. “A lot of guys complain about holding those heavy lights and stuff but you’re doing great.”

“Oh,” Buffy said in surprise. “Well, thanks.”

“You’re a lot stronger than you look,” Gary told her. “Uh, did I hear you say earlier that you and that guy aren’t-”

“Hey, you, some guy in a very loud Hawaiian shirt is looking for you.” Spike interrupted, making Buffy jump slightly. She hadn’t even realized he was standing behind her.

Gary’s face immediately reverted back to its usual panicked expression. “What could possibly be wrong now?” he mumbled, scurrying away.

“Hey guys?” Andrew’s voice floated towards them from under the strip of wallpaper he was wrestling with.

Buffy took in Spike’s pleased expression as Gary left and crossed her arms. “No one was looking for him, were they?”

Spike shrugged. “Eh, someone probably was. Seems to be the only one around here who knows what’s going on. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“He was just telling me what a good job I was doing!”

“Guys?” Andrew asked again.

Spike snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he was.” He stepped a little closer to her. “And Megan’s a natural blonde.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose at Megan’s name. “Well, I guess you two have something in common then.”

Spike’s hand strayed to her hip, his fingers playing with the bottom edge of the shirt she was wearing and grazing her bare skin. “Hm?” He glanced up at her, raising one eyebrow. “Love the new look.” Buffy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling triumphantly. She hoped Megan was watching. That’d teach her for trying to steal people’s…not-actual-boyfriends.

Andrew yelped and shook his hand frantically, trying to dislodge another scrap of wallpaper that had apparently adhered to his palm. “Guys? Guys?” His voice went up drastically in pitch.

Spike shot him an irritated glance and bent down, giving Buffy a great view of his butt in those shorts while the vampire handed Andrew the glue brush for the wallpaper. Buffy almost didn’t manage to get her eyes back up where they belonged before he turned back around, shaking his hand a bit. “Now, where were we?”

Buffy decided she’d let him kiss her just a little, to teach Megan a lesson, as he slipped a hand up under her shirt-dress and cupped her bare rear end. She tipped her head back and tested the durability of the bronzer on his chest with her fingers while Spike’s tongue mapped the inside of her mouth. Spike backed her into the nearby wall, propping her against it and biting her bottom lip just enough to make her groan. Actually, maybe he could kiss her a lot, Megan seemed like she might not pick up on things very quickly anyways.

“Spike,” Buffy murmured breathlessly just as he stilled completely and pulled back, frowning. She furrowed her brow. “What?”

“Um,” Spike hedged. “So, don’t panic, but…”

Buffy gasped and put her hands up to her head. “Oh my god, did you get glue in my hair?” She wiggled, trying to get away from him to check the rest of herself, but he made a pained noise as his arm twisted weirdly and he jerked her close again.

“Stop moving!”

Buffy glared at him and then realized his hand was still on her butt and it hadn’t shifted since…Buffy closed her eyes in resignation. “Please tell me you did not just glue your hand to my butt.”

There was a long pause.

“I didn’t just glue my hand to your butt?”

Somewhere nearby, Andrew fell over with a weak cry for help, entirely wrapped in wallpaper.


	5. Nailed

“No, I said send…nevermind, I’ll do it myself,” Gary barked into his headset. He eyed Buffy for a moment with what she thought might be disappointment before he walked away. Spike shifted slightly closer to her and she felt his fingers squeeze her butt.

“I don’t think that’s actually carpenter’s glue,” someone pointed out unhelpfully. They were all gathered around poor, wallpapered Andrew. At least most of his face seemed to have somehow escaped being covered. Buffy tugged the back of her shirt down over her butt for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, trying to ignore the fact that she might have lost her mind for a second. Again. She’d just totally let Spike grope her, this time with glue. She was a terrible Slayer.

“Oh, I can fix this!” Megan announced after contemplating Andrew for a moment. Spike made a surprised noise that Buffy silently seconded. “I’ll be right back.” The blonde girl marched off towards the front of the house while the other members of the crew discussed lunch plans over Andrew’s prone form. 

“My nose itches,” Andrew said plaintively.

“So, about earlier-” Spike began.

“We’re not talking about that,” Buffy hissed back, smiling brightly at one of the crew members walking by. “Can’t you just…ow!” She jumped a little as Spike tried to separate his hand from her butt.

“Sorry,” Spike said, sounding surprisingly contrite. “It’s, uh, really stuck.” He gave her butt another squeeze. “Have to say, though, nicest arse I’ve ever been stuck with.”

Buffy felt herself blush. “You’re a pig, Spike.” The statement came out in a surprisingly teasing lilt that she was almost positive was accidental.

“Think you might have to admit you’re not opposed to me eventually.” Spike sounded amused. “What with us walking around with my hand up your shirt all day.” He leaned in a little closer. “Could maybe sneak away for a bit, while they’re busy with that one.” He nodded at Andrew lying helplessly on the floor. “Finish what we started?” His mouth grazed her ear and made her shiver, even as she berated herself for getting carried away a few minutes earlier.  

“You think maybe there’s something in the trailer to unstick us?” Buffy whispered, desperately trying to change the subject.

Spike’s leering smile made her heart race. “Want to go check?”

“No!” Buffy whispered fiercely. “I mean, yes to the checking, but no funny business!” 

Spike opened his mouth to say something she strongly suspected was going to make her want to punch him in the nose when Megan came bustling back, a container of something in her hand. Buffy found herself actually thinking nice thoughts about the other girl for once.

“Here we go!” Megan busied herself with attempting to free Andrew while the rest of the crew wandered back to their work. She glanced up at Spike, ignoring Buffy entirely. “And then we’ll do you.”

The double entendre was completely obvious, and all of Buffy’s previous goodwill towards Megan evaporated immediately. Seriously, was Buffy invisible or something?

Buffy scowled at Megan, who did seem to be having some success peeling the sticky wallpaper off of Andrew. Megan had to be breaking some sort of unwritten girl code. Buffy was literally attached to Spike and the other girl was still hitting on him!

Buffy took a moment to make sure her hair still looked good (and was still free of glue) before clearing her throat. “That’d be great,” she said a little too loudly and somewhat belatedly. Megan didn’t look up and Buffy narrowed her eyes.

“There we go,” Megan said cheerfully, unrolling the last bit of paper from around Andrew. “Nail polish remover always does the trick.”

Andrew sat up, looking relieved and checking his limbs for stray bits of paper. “Oh my gosh, thanks,” he said gratefully.

“No prob.” Megan stood up and turned towards Spike. “Next?”

Spike started in her direction but Buffy refused to move, forcing the vampire to an awkward stop. He frowned back at her. “Thought you wanted to find a fix for this?”

“I…” Buffy reached back to tug her shirt down again and dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’s going to see my butt!”

“You want to charge her for it?” Spike asked, sounding bemused.

“No!” Buffy squeaked. “I just…it’s weird.”

Spike lifted an eyebrow at her. “Weird?” he repeated.

“You know what I mean!” Buffy hissed at him. “Unlike you, I tend to avoid making random people look at my butt!”

Spike’s other eyebrow lifted. “When did I make anyone look at my butt?”

“All the time!” Buffy exclaimed, forgetting to keep her voice low. “Look at you!”

Spike’s eyebrows somehow managed to climb even higher as he regarded her, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. “I’m making you look at my butt?”

“Yes!” Buffy huffed.

Spike’s smirk grew into a laughing grin. “You ever think that might be because you like looking at me?”

“I do not!”

Megan was standing nearby, looking bored and examining her nails. “Hey, can you guys argue about whatever later? I’ve got things to do.” She frowned at Spike’s torso and reached out a hand. “What did you do? I’m going to have to fix-”

“Hey,” Buffy interrupted, stepping back and forcing Spike to move away from the other girl’s wandering hands. “Can we take care of this little problem first?” Buffy gestured behind herself.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, hello?” Megan rolled her eyes dramatically.

Buffy smiled tightly. “Great, but can we maybe not do it where I’ll be flashing half of Sunnydale?”

Megan sighed like she’d never heard anything so ridiculous. “Oh my god, fine. Let’s go.” She turned on her heel and headed for the front door. Buffy took a deep breath, reminded herself that she only beat up demons, and followed Megan, dragging Spike along with her.

“Uh, Slayer, I’m gonna need…”

“Andrew!” Buffy barked. “Umbrella!”

“On it!” She heard him squeak behind her.

“In a take-charge kind of mood, eh?” Spike squeezed her butt with his glued hand again as Andrew came running with the umbrella.

“Here you go,” Andrew said breathlessly, opening it and handing it to Spike.

“Some people just don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves,” Buffy muttered under her breath.

Spike snorted a laugh and held the umbrella up over his head as they stepped out the front door. The sun was high in the sky as they made the awkward dash towards the trailer, luckily without any vampires catching fire and singing her behind.

Buffy marched up to where Megan was waiting inside the trailer and whirled around to face Spike, her spine straight and stiff. Spike stepped closer, his free hand resting on her hip as he peered over her shoulder at whatever Megan was doing. Buffy seriously didn’t think her day could get any stranger. Between the nakedness, Spike’s newfound work ethic, Andrew, her outfit, and now this butt-glue incident, there couldn’t possibly be anything left for the Powers to toss her way.

Megan dabbed something wet and cold on her butt. Buffy leaned her forehead against Spike’s chest and closed her eyes, trying to sort out the disaster zone that was her brain. She should have just left the vampire in the basement this morning, clothes be damned. Now she was even more confused than she’d been last night. It was just so hard to think when he was standing right in front of her being all…distracting.

“So,” Megan said casually. Buffy felt a couple of Spike’s fingers lift away from her skin and breathed a sigh of relief. It would have been seriously hard to explain to Willow why there was a vampire stuck to her butt once she finally got home. “Have any plans for tonight?”

“Uh, no?” Spike replied warily. Buffy lifted her head up and glared at him. He glanced down at her and lifted one shoulder.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Megan practically purred, jabbing something against Buffy with unnecessary force.

“Ow!” Buffy protested. Spike frowned and she felt at least one of his free fingers stroke the spot contritely.

“Would you like to?” Megan continued.

“Uh, like to what?” Spike asked.

“Have plans for tonight?”

Buffy felt the last of Spike’s hand lift free and spun around with a glare. “I’m standing right here!”

Megan shrugged. “Just thought he’d like to know he has options.”

“Uh,” Spike started. “I don’t…”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Buffy snapped, putting her hands on her hips.

Megan’s smile was sharp and knowing. “It means you’re a total bitch, duh.”

Buffy gasped. “You...he…oh my god, he’s a v-” Buffy cut herself off, clamping her lips together.  

“Very happy,” Spike finished hastily. “A very happy, uh, man.”

Megan scowled at him. “Whatever,” she sniffed, and then stomped out of the trailer.

Buffy was breathing heavily, her hands curled into fists. Spike eyed her warily. “Slayer?”

“Why?” she asked despairingly, trying and failing to avoid looking at the vampire in front of her. “I don’t…why is it always you?”

Spike scratched the back of his head with one hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, what-”

“It’s not supposed to be you!” Buffy heard the shrillness in her voice, but she couldn’t seem to control it. “You’re not supposed to be the…the one who sticks around! You’re supposed to be evil and horrible and… and bad!” Spike continued to stare at her, bewildered. Words were bubbling up inside of her and spilling out of her mouth almost faster than she could think. “You’re not supposed to want to help, or understand, or care! What the hell is wrong with you?” Buffy felt a hot tear slip down her cheek.

Spike reached out a hesitant hand. “Slayer, I…”

“ _I’m_ supposed to be the good one! I’m the one who’s supposed to care, but instead I just…what’s wrong with me?”

Spike made a soothing noise and approached her with the same caution she imagined someone would a wounded bear. His fingertips brushed along her arm up to her shoulder and his ridiculously blue eyes were full of concern. Concern a soulless vampire was completely not supposed to have for anything but himself. Buffy knocked his hand away and watched his face fall. She was a total bitch. Megan was right.

She sank to her knees and covered her face with her hands. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!” she wailed, her whole body trembling. She felt Spike’s strong hands on her shoulders and peeked through her fingers, sniffling miserably. He was crouched there in front of her, still looking worried.

“Sorry?” he offered. He gently brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Slayer, Buffy, there’s nothing…”

Something inside of her snapped. There was no way he was following her thought process and yet he was sorry? Hell, she wasn’t sure they’d ever been on the same wavelength and he was still apologizing. She took a sharp breath in, her heart constricting painfully. This was not the sort of person she wanted to be. “No.”

Spike snatched his hands back like he’d been burned. “Look, if you’re just going to-”

“No,” she whispered again, dropping her hands and staring at the vampire in front of her. He stared back, his expression guarded. “I mean, I don’t want to anymore.” Spike clenched his jaw and looked away. “No,” Buffy tried to explain desperately. “I just…I want…” she paused, wondering if she was going crazy or just finally thinking clearly for the first time since she’d come back. “I want to be happy.”

Spike threw up his hands and started to rise from his crouched position. “What the hell do you think I was trying to do, you crazy woman?”

Buffy reached out and grasped his wrist. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know, Spike. Thank you.”

“What?” The vampire looked completely flummoxed.

“Thank you,” Buffy repeated.

Spike stared at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Uh, you didn’t stick your nose in that bucket, did you?”

Buffy felt her lips quirk up a little. “No, Spike, I have not been sniffing glue.”

“Oh.” He didn’t look any less bewildered. “You’re welcome?”

Buffy let out a tiny, joyless laugh, swiping at her eyes with one hand while maintaining her grip on him. “It’s going to end in disaster, you know. It always does with me.”

Spike tilted his head to one side, regarding her. “Started at that end, pet, can only get better from here.”

This time her laugh sounded slightly more normal. “This is insane.”

Spike settled in front of her on the floor and leaned in close, one hand creeping up her thigh. “Not yet,” he purred, “but we could work our way up to it.”

Buffy felt her body swaying in his direction and gave in, letting her mind go blank. Maybe thinking was overrated. She pressed her lips to his with enough force to knock Spike back into Megan’s dumb rack of coats, causing the entire thing to tip over with a loud crash. The vampire simply wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over onto the pile of clothing, deepening the kiss.

Buffy felt his fingers tangle in her hair, a thrill running down her spine as he tugged it just hard enough to make her moan. Her fingers fumbled with the button fly of his stupidly tiny shorts and yanked them open. “Spike,” she gasped as he trailed sucking kisses down her throat. He ground their hips together and pushed the shirt she was wearing up.

“Buff-” Spike stopped and sat up so suddenly that Buffy let out a squeak of surprise and yanked her shirt back down, sure that someone must have come into the trailer. Instead of getting up though, Spike just grasped something underneath her and pulled.

“Hey!” Buffy protested, grabbing onto one of his arms to keep from rolling away. “What…” She caught sight of the leather in his hands. “Oh my god, can you have your reunion with your jacket later?”

Spike gave one last yank, freeing his duster and settling himself back down over her as he dropped it in a heap beside them. “Just happy I’ll be able to have a smoke later, kitten, that’s all.”

He smirked at her and Buffy decided that kissing the expression off his face was easier than punching him from her position. She wrapped her legs around his hips, making him groan against her mouth as she sighed in satisfaction. She could think about the implications of this later. Right now she wanted him and she hardly ever got what she wanted anymore. This was for her. Plus, Spike really didn’t seem opposed to the idea.

He’d managed to undo most of the buttons on her shirt while kicking his shorts off. Buffy could feel the buttery soft leather of his coat against her cheek and took a breath, reveling in the familiar scent. “I…Spike…” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Got you,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ve got you, my girl.”

Buffy let her head fall back and surrendered.


	6. Leveled

Apparently, Andrew had done a fantastic job of getting the rest of the wallpaper up.

Buffy shuffled over a half-step for a better view, watching as another piece of the paper tore instead of peeling away in one long strip like it was supposed to. Spike cursed loud enough for her to hear from across the room and she suppressed a smile as the vampire huffed loudly and picked up the wallpaper steamer again.

She watched his arm flex and bend, his bicep working to keep the contraption aimed against the wall. She wasn’t sure if it was just old or if someone had rigged it, but the steam never came out in a steady mist like it was supposed to, instead spurting randomly in various directions, including back towards Spike. He ducked to avoid a blast from the steamer, muttering loudly. His hair was curling and sticking up around the crown of his head, making him look even more debauched than the shorts and their earlier, actual debauchery. She highly suspected sabotage was involved in the steamer’s malfunctioning. He shook the thing again and took aim at another piece of stubborn wallpaper high up on the wall, the stretch making his shorts slide down to perch precariously on his narrow hips.

Buffy sighed out loud, then looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, everyone seemed to be busy with their own tasks. Her eyes strayed back to Spike. He was glaring at the patch of wallpaper he was attempting to remove like that alone might make paper shrivel up and fall off the wall. Someone was filming him while he worked, the camera panning quickly across the room to catch the others before returning to linger on the vampire. Buffy didn’t blame them one bit.

“Hey, Buffy?” Andrew’s voice was strained. “Uh, can you…?”

“Oh, sorry,” Buffy lifted her end of the box they’d been carrying around for ten minutes a little higher. So far everywhere they’d tried to set it down had been vetoed. Gary had been in a snit ever since she and Spike had emerged from the wardrobe trailer, which was completely unfair since it was his stupid glue that’d started the whole thing. 

“How about here?” Andrew asked hopefully, starting to set the box down in a corner of the main room behind some lighting equipment.

“Not there!” Gary barked, sailing past. “It needs to be closer to the next interior sequence.” He was gone without further explanation.

“Where’s that?” Buffy asked, looking around.

Andrew shrugged and put one hand on his hip to survey the room, clearing up the mystery of who was really carrying the box all over the darn house. “Hey, does Spike like Doctor Who?”

“How should I know?” Buffy asked, exasperated. Andrew had been asking her completely random questions about Spike all afternoon and it was driving her crazy.

After she and Spike had, um…worked things out, she’d tried to sneak out of the wardrobe trailer only to run right into the back of Andrew, who had apparently taken it upon himself to stand guard.

“Did you get it?” he’d asked in a loud whisper. “What kind of demon was it?”

Thank goodness Spike had stumbled out a moment later, still trying to flatten his hair while holding his umbrella. “Um, Spike can tell you,” she’d blurted out, then fled towards the front of the house.

The rest of the afternoon had dragged on, with Gary assigning her increasingly pointless tasks to complete and Andrew trailing after her. Thank goodness her current Spike-quandary was giving her brain more than enough of a workout. She was the Slayer; He was a vampire. She was good, kinda; he was…not good, mostly. Although he was really good at certain things, she mused, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t made exceptions before. Maybe…

“Do you think he’d want to go to the Con with me? I have three tickets and one was supposed to be for Warren but he’s been really mean to me lately. I’m going as the Tenth Doctor and Jonathan wants to be the Second Doctor even though I told him he’d make a great Dalek and Spike could be the Eighth…”

“Andrew,” Buffy interrupted. “I think this goes right here.” She dropped the box with a thump and let out a relieved breath, glancing around to make sure Gary was nowhere in sight. “Do you think we’re almost done?”

“Oh, Gary said we could go a while ago.”

“What?” Buffy exclaimed, turning to him. “Then why are we still here?”

Andrew frowned. “Spike’s not done yet.”

Buffy inhaled through her nose and counted to ten before slowly exhaling. She’d seen that on one of her mom’s exercise tapes once, but it was not calming her down as advertised. “He’s a big boy, uh, vampire, Andrew. He can take care of himself.”

“Oh,” Andrew shrugged. “I just thought, if you wanted, I could give you guys a ride home.”

“We don’t live tog…” Buffy paused. “Wait, you have a car here? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” 

“It’s a van!” Andrew said proudly. “My aunt let me buy it from her.” He leaned closer. “The back doesn’t have any windows.” He added in a confidential whisper. Buffy’s brain immediately supplied an image of shag carpeting, disco lights, and lots of uninterrupted time with a certain vampire before she realized what Andrew must mean.

“Oh, sure, so no sunlight. Handy,” she said lamely. She was going to have to give her brain a stern talking-to later.

Andrew beamed happily at her. “So you guys want a ride?”

The word ‘no’ was on the tip of her tongue, but the thought of walking through half of Sunnydale in her current outfit, which was one breeze away from being indecent, stopped her. “Yeah, okay,” she said, resigned. “Let me see if Spike’s almost done.” 

Buffy managed to make it all the way across the room without Gary popping up to make her carry something else, which seemed like a minor miracle. She paused just behind the camera person and admired the vampire’s…ability to take down wallpaper.

Spike stepped back, peeling one long strip away from the wall and triumphantly holding it aloft. “Christ, that one was stickier than the blood of a…” he caught sight of her and stopped. “Did I say blood? I meant, uh...”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Andrew said he’ll give us a ride when you’re done.”

“Are you done?” Spike asked, tossing the wallpaper carelessly to the floor.

“Apparently.” Buffy shrugged.

“Then I’m done,” Spike announced. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“There you are!” Buffy winced at the sound of Gary’s voice. “Here’s for today.” He handed Buffy an envelope before passing another one to the vampire without bothering to acknowledging him. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Buffy asked, peeking into her envelope before catching a glimpse of green and hastily shutting it again. Spike seemed not to suffer from the same compunction, pulling out the stack of bills and counting them carefully.

“Yeah, you did great today,” Gary said, ignoring Spike. “We could use you if you’re available.”  

“I totally am!” Buffy said enthusiastically.

“And, uh, maybe him, too,” Gary said begrudgingly, flicking a hand towards Spike.

“Um, I’m not sure…”

“Already fixed it with your construction bloke,” Spike interrupted.

“You did?” Buffy replied in surprise.

Spike shrugged. “Yeah.”

Buffy stared at the vampire, bewildered. She’d really thought he would use his earnings to get Dawn whatever it was her sister was dying without and blow the rest on kitten poker and smelly cigarettes. She hadn’t even considered that he might continue this strange, legitimate job kick he was apparently on. Spike was seriously throwing her for a loop today. “Oh.”

“That a problem?” Spike raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms, framing the upper part of his bare chest. Buffy imagined bronzer probably wouldn’t taste very good, even though she’d managed to wipe most of it off. “Slayer?”

Buffy had to replay the last few seconds of their conversation in her head to remember what question she was supposed to be answering. “Uh, no?”

“Great, we’ll see you both tomorrow.” Gary disappeared again. Buffy was starting to suspect he might be using some sort of magic mojo. Maybe she should ask Willow about it later.

“Slayer?” Spike said again, his tone cautious. “You ready to go?”

Buffy tore her eyes away from his torso and cleared her throat nervously. “Yeah. Let’s find Andrew.”

“I just need to make one stop first.” Spike strode off towards the front door, grabbing the umbrella on his way over. Buffy scurried after him to make sure…she drew a blank. He hadn’t done an objectionable thing all day. Actually, he’d done several things she had no objection to, even if she was still a little concerned she might have lost her mind.

The shadows outside were getting long, and Spike barely had to use the umbrella to get to the wardrobe trailer. Buffy hesitated just outside the door, wondering if she should just go tell Andrew they were ready to go, when she heard an annoying, high-pitched laugh coming from inside. She narrowed her eyes and went in, her gaze immediately falling on Megan. The other girl had Spike cornered over by the messy pile of coats and was talking a mile a minute.

Spike sent a pleading glance Buffy’s way, lifting up his jacket as an explanation.

Buffy pasted on a smile faker than Megan’s eyelashes and waltzed over towards them. “Hey, I heard you had to help out in the basement this afternoon, bummer.”

Megan’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t so bad.” She turned back to Spike.

“I hope the spiders didn’t give you any trouble,” Buffy said innocently.

“Spiders?” Megan turned to face her. “There were hardly any…”

“You didn’t see all the webs? On the ceiling?”

Megan’s face paled and she reached a hand up to her carefully styled blonde hair. “I’ll be right back.” She fled to the back of the trailer and Buffy heard a door slam.

Spike chuckled as he slipped his coat on over his bare shoulders. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m not…” Buffy automatically started. She paused mid-sentence. She really wasn’t sure what they were, actually. Or if they were anything at all. Spike’s slowly blooming grin made her blush. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Fine by me, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Buffy admitted. “I should stop and get something for me and Dawn.” She bit her lip. “Would you like to…I mean, do you want, um, to come…” She wrinkled her nose, exasperated at her sudden loss of proper speech.

Spike reached out and snagged one of her wrists, pulling her close. “Are you inviting me over for dinner?” His hands settled on her hips, one sliding back to caress the spot he’d glued himself to earlier in the day.

“No! Well, yes. Kind of? But you have to buy your own blood. And it’s mostly for Dawn.”

Spike was wearing an amused expression. “Don’t think nibblet’s too keen on blood for dinner.”

“The invitation to dinner, I meant,” Buffy tried to explain. “Since you’re going to get her…whatever it is, I thought you might like to tell her.” That was a totally legitimate reason to have him over, she decided, relieved. “Wait, what are you getting her? It’s not illegal is it? Or a pet? Because we are so not good with pets, no matter what Dawn told you.” She had to tilt her head back to see his face, since they’d somehow ended up really close together. Her wandering hands were fiddling with the lapels of his jacket.

Spike grinned at her. “Relax, Slayer, it’s nothing illegal or alive, promise.”

“Okay.” Buffy felt herself blush for no reason at all. “That’s, um, good.”

“Yeah.” Spike slid one of his hands into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her skull. “Good.” He bent down and pressed his mouth to hers with surprising gentleness. Buffy slowly parted her lips, allowing his teasing tongue to enter her mouth, and relaxed into his embrace. When he broke the kiss a moment later she had trouble finding her voice.

“Um, Spike,” she said, sounding a trifle more breathless than she wanted to. “I…” A loud, blaring noise from outside the trailer interrupted them. It sounded like some sort of music composed by demons who had no ears. Or taste. “What was that?”

“Hey guys!” Andrew poked his head in the door. “Ready to go?”

Buffy untangled herself from the vampire, letting Spike hang on to one of her hands. She figured Andrew had already caught them naked together, so a little hand holding wasn’t going to be a big shock. They picked their way through Megan’s racks of clothes and Buffy shed most of the accessories she’d borrowed. “Is it okay if we stop and get a pizza?”

“And blood,” Spike added, stepping through the door and helping her down. The area in front of the house was completely shaded now, though Andrew had helpfully pulled his van right up next to the wardrobe trailer.

“I love pizza!” Andrew announced.

Spike paused and picked up one of the half-full buckets of glue that someone had left next to the trailer along with the unused wallpaper. He caught Buffy watching and shot a wink in her direction. “Thought it might come in handy later.”

“I could wallpaper your house!” Andrew enthused, moving around the van and pulling open the door.

Buffy forgot whatever it was she was going to say about the glue in the face of the…thing painted on the side of the van. “What…”

“I did it myself,” Andrew said proudly. He frowned slightly. “Except maybe I should change it now. I could probably do a wicked Millennium Falcon!”

“Sure, Andrew,” Buffy replied faintly. Seriously, she was going to have to get a nerd-to-normal-person dictionary from somewhere.

“Nah,” Spike said, eyeing the artwork critically. “Maybe a buxom warrior queen of some kind.”

Buffy lifted her eyebrows.

“Or the Millennium Falcon sounds great,” Spike tacked on hastily. Buffy suppressed a smile. Maybe she wouldn’t need that dictionary after all. Spike seemed well-versed in the world of nerd.

She settled into the back with the vampire, looking around at the computer equipment Andrew had apparently installed. “What’s all this for?” She asked curiously.

Andrew looked at her nervously. “Spying on, uh, demons?”

“Huh.” Buffy was almost impressed. That could be handy.

“So what kind of pizza do you guys like?” Andrew asked, steering the van carefully around the bulldozer still parked out in front of the house. “I like almost everything except peppers. And olives. Oh, and I don’t eat Hawaiian because hot pineapple tastes weird. Hey, do you eat pizza, Spike? Or just blood? Do you put blood on your pizza? Maybe we could get two pizzas!”

Spike sighed and slipped an arm around Buffy’s waist, pulling her closer. Buffy let her head rest against Spike’s shoulder as Andrew’s ceaseless voice washed over her. Apparently they’d just adopted a nerd. She supposed there were worse things. Spike rested his cheek on top of her head and she wondered how she was going to break the news to the gang about her whole new…thing with Spike. Maybe she should just have him glue his hand to her butt again.

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes.


End file.
